


Take Note

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: M/M, None - Freeform, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 02:14:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/792889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Someone speculates about the boys' lives from objective evidence. A sort of amateur anthropological evaluation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take Note

**Author's Note:**

> This is a third party POV. Short but charming. It is also a birthday present I received earlier this month and I am posting it with the permission of the author who is not on our list. Comments to her email addy, noted above.

## Take Note

by Tipton

Author's disclaimer: Petfly owns the boys but the story and the unique character are the author's. No cash. Just smiles.

* * *

Take Note   
by Tipton   
for MJ 10/20/99 

I pulled my car into an empty parking place near my employers' apartment building. That was one of the perks at this particular address, convenient parking. A nice perk for me, too. I walked around my little '81 Chevette and opened the door to pull my collection of tools off the passenger seat. Then I started across the street. Looking up I didn't see any lights on, and it was a grey day. Maybe they were out and I could get my work done again this week. 

I got out of the elevator on the third floor and made my way to the last door on the left. 307. I juggled my plastic carry-all as I pulled the elastic bracelet key chain from my wrist. I got the wide door open and placed my tools on the floor before I turned to close the heavy door. I sighed. Deeply. This was one of my favourite places. A combination of extreme neatness and a complete recklessness abandonment type of clutter. 

As I stooped to move to my supplies away from the door, I saw a slip of paper caught half under the plastic carry-all. A note with my name on it: Mrs. D., laundry. No signature and last week's date. They were really into re-cycling around here, couldn't even write me a new note. 

I gave a quick look around the open area of the loft apartment. They must have been in a real hurry this morning as the dishes were still in the sink. Usually they took time for that chore before leaving. As good a place as any to start. As the water ran into the sink creating too many suds, I went across the living area to turn on some music. This was another perk-as long as I reset the radio station if I changed it. I was not to touch the CD's though. I could play them, just wasn't to change them. That was alright with me. Most of my employers had rules for me to follow. Some just had more than others. Here, though, they had very few. So I honoured them. I liked listening to the CD's they left in the changer. Earth music Mr. Sandburg called it. 

I stopped short. The music was soft, sensual, a caressing love song. Oh, I thought, someone must have gotten lucky last night. I went back to the dishes. As I washed them I noticed there were the usual two of everything for breakfast use, but only one plate, one wine glass, one fork. Last night's dishes. Looked like one of the roommates had eaten supper alone. 

I finished the dishes, stacked them in the drainer. I'd put them away before I left. Now, dust. No, make that pick up the scattered clothes and do the laundry. There were shirts, jeans and even underwear scattered across the living area, the bathroom and the stairs. Must have been one heck of a hurry this a.m. 

I gathered the rest of the dirties from the bathroom hamper, stripped Mr. Sandburg's downstairs bed and then up to Mr. Ellison's loft bedroom. Ah, Mr. Ellison. The bed was a mess. Sheets twisted together, the bedspread on the floor. Now I knew who'd gotten lucky. 

I had to make two trips to get all the clothes and bed things down to the laundry in the basement. I used three washers just to get a start on it all. 

Back upstairs I straightened and dusted, and cleaned the bathroom. Missed the towels in the bathtub the first time I gathered from the hamper. I threw them down over by the door for my next trip down to the laundry. What Mr. Ellison didn't know about damp towels on his floor wouldn't hurt him. 

Time for a break. I made one of Mr. Sandburg's herbal teas for myself. He'd shown me how to brew them when I'd first started working here about three years ago. I tried one with echinacea since I was feeling the start of a cold. A piece of toast and I was ready to finish the laundry. 

There. All folded and ready to put away. Towels down here, Mr. Sandburg's clothes down here, also, along with the single bed sheets and spread. Upstairs go the king size sheets, bedspread and larger size clothes. I huffed as I climbed the steps. Only needed to put these things away, make the bed and I'd be done for the day. 

When I pulled the drawer open to put jeans away, I noticed a pair of jeans with holes. Mr. Ellison was too neat for that. So, what were Mr. Sandburg's jeans doing up here? Had I placed them up here last week? I shrugged my shoulders, pulled the jeans out and tossed them down near the top step to carry them down to the lower level bedroom. 

As I gave the bedspread a flip with my wrists and watched it settle slowly onto the bed, I noticed a pair of eyeglasses on the bedside table. Oh, oh, Mr. Ellison's lucky charm of last night must have forgotten her glasses. He'll just have to return them, as I don't remember him ever having the same girl here twice. I could tell. The bedclothes always hold a bit of perfume along with those other smells. Last night's smells were more herbal than perfumery. Wait, I've smelled these herbals before. This might mean he was seeing her on a regular basis. Maybe he had finally found someone to settle down with. 

If so, now it's Mr. Sandburg's turn to find a special someone. 

The End 


End file.
